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The beggar, seizing the gold-piece, blesses him, and hopes that "Heaven will render to him according to his merits." Other beggars, from every corner, are about to rush upon him; but Nobili deftly escapes from these as he had escaped from the Marchesa Boccarini and her daughters, and is gone.
The family is dying out. When Marchesa Boccarini dies, the palace will be sold, and the money divided among her daughters. As dusk was settling into night a carriage rattled along the deserted street. The horses a pair of splendid bays struck sparks out of the granite pavement. With a bang they draw up at the entrance, under an archway, guarded by a grille of rusty iron.
Then she took it up in both her hands, stepped to a mirror that hung near, and, turning the light hither and thither, looked at her blooming face, in full and in profile. Then she replaced the lamp upon the table, yawned, and left the room. Next morning a note was put into Count Nobili's hand at breakfast. It bore the Boccarini arms and the initials of the marchesa.
It was this that made Nera so attractive. She was perfectly natural and unconventionally bold "like an English mees," it was said with looks of horror. The Boccarini were in reality so poor that it was no uncommon thing for them to remain at home because they could not afford to buy new dresses in which to display themselves. Lucca is so small, every one's clothes are known.
"The cavaliere is not yet returned." "This is a strange story," said Orsetti, gravely. "Nobili too, and Marescotti. She must be a lively damsel. What will Nera Boccarini say to her truant knight, who rescues maidens accidentally on distant mountains? What had Nobili to do in the Garfagnana?" "Ask him," lisped Orazio; "it will save more talking.
All the ladies have found partners; there is not a single wall-flower. Nothing could exceed the stately propriety of the ball. It was a grand and stately gathering. Nobody but Nera Boccarini was natural. "To save appearances" is the social law. "Do what you like, but save appearances." A dignified hypocrisy none disobey.
"A thousand devils! no," was Nobili's irate reply, pushing him back. "Let me go up; I shall say nothing. Cospetto! What is it to me?" "Thanks! thanks! The excellency is full of mercy to an old, overworked servant. There was a time when the Boccarini " Nobili did not wait to hear more, but strode through the darkness at hazard, to find the stairs.
To her every young and pretty woman is a rival to her daughters; if a rival, an enemy if an enemy, to be annihilated if possible, or at least disabled, and driven ignominiously from the field. It is well known that the Boccarini girls are poor. They will have no portions every one understands that. The Boccarini girls must marry as they can; no priest will interest himself in their espousals.
"You will believe me another time. You know I told you and Orsetti that Nera Boccarini and Nobili understood each other. He's desperately in love with her." "I don't believe it, all the same," answers Malatesta, shaking his head. "A man can't half kill a girl and show no compunction specially not Nobili the best-hearted fellow breathing.
"No." "If you mean to marry her, do not. Take advice. My mother has seen it," Nera added, with well-simulated horror. "She would not let me read it." Now this was the sheerest malice. Madame Boccarini had never seen the sonnet. But if she had, there was not one word in the sonnet that might not have been addressed to the Blessed Virgin herself.
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